Lone Wolf
by Shadowblade217
Summary: When Jackson Whittemore decided to leave his life in London and find a new future for himself, the one thing he wasn't expecting was to end up stumbling upon a little town in Maine. But when it turns out that Storybrooke has its own otherworldly secrets, Jackson must choose a side and embark on a dangerous search for answers... including why this town seems so familiar.
1. Change of Scene

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Once Upon a Time.**

_**Lone Wolf**_

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**Chapter 1: Change of Scene**

_Oxford University_

_London, England_

Jackson Whittemore strolled across the campus of Oxford University with a smile on his face. His clear blue eyes were concealed behind a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses; his outfit – a dark blue button-down shirt, beige slacks and black leather shoes – spoke of wealth, and his blonde hair was spiked up in his usual style. A dark green backpack was slung over his shoulder.

Jackson had been in London for about six months, and during that time, he had been hard-pressed to find any regrets about the city. He had no memories of living outside of California before he'd moved to the United Kingdom, and, as a result, his new environment was fascinating. London was completely different from Beacon Hills, his previous home; he had never lived in a big city before.

Despite his misgivings about London, Jackson had settled in remarkably well to life at Oxford. Although he was still young enough to be in high school, his parents had enrolled him in classes at the university, rather than to place him in the British equivalent to high school.

Overall, Jackson was enjoying himself; he'd been able to make friends fairly easily, and his schooling was excellent. Admittedly, his relationship with his adoptive parents still left something to be desired, but apart from that, he couldn't complain. This was his life now, and he was doing his best to leave Beacon Hills behind.

However, there was one thing that Jackson missed about Beacon Hills; his friends. He missed his best friend Danny, and the other guys on the school lacrosse team. He even missed the other kids involved in Beacon Hills' supernatural community: Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Allison Argent, and even Derek Hale.

But most of all, he missed the girl that he loved more than anything else; Lydia Martin.

Jackson frowned, the only visual sign of the pain he felt whenever he thought of her. Her flame-red hair, her warm brown eyes, and her smile, the brightest thing he'd ever seen, haunted his dreams much more often than he would have liked.

She'd been there for him when he had been at his absolute lowest, transformed into a six-foot, reptilian monster under the complete control of a psychopathic murderer. Even when the Kanima, the thing that he'd become, had almost completely consumed the person he had once been, Lydia had been there. She had pulled him back from the brink, and saved his life – and, more importantly, his soul.

And he had lost her. They'd had two magical weeks after the whole Kanima mess was over, two weeks of almost euphoric delight, that they were together, and it was all over.

Then his parents had dropped the bombshell; that they were through with Beacon Hills, and they didn't feel that it was a safe environment for him anymore.

Telling Lydia that he was leaving had ranked among the most painful moments of his life. He could still see the pain in her eyes, no matter how hard he tried to forget.

"Hey, Jackson!"

Snapped out of his reverie, Jackson looked up, his eyes falling on Nigel, his roommate and one of the closest friends he'd made at Oxford. The older boy grinned, his green eyes flashing in the sunlight, and waved. "Come on, mate!" he called, brushing aside his bangs; his jet-black hair was always untidy, and managed to get everywhere. "We're gonna be late! Let's get a move on!"

Jackson nodded. "Right, right," he replied, following Nigel as the pair jogged off towards their next classroom. Jackson could easily have overtaken his friend – being a werewolf had its benefits, once Derek had taught him how to control it – but he had already decided to hold off on using his "extra" abilities as much as possible. After everything he'd gone through in Beacon Hills, he had learned the values of caution and concealment.

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"The Brothers Grimm," the professor of Jackson's English Literature class called from the podium, "were the authors of some of the most famous stories of all time. I'm going to assume that most of you are already familiar with their works, at least in part." He smiled faintly, gesturing to the projection screen as images flashed onto the display. "Snow White. Cinderella. Sleeping Beauty. Pinocchio. Red Riding Hood, and the Big Bad Wolf. Just to name a few." Turning away from the screen, he took several steps forward, spreading his arms theatrically. "Now, I'm curious; how many of you would be intrigued to know that these stories were based on real-life events?"

There were quite a few snickers and muffled laughs at that question. Jackson, seated about halfway to the back of the auditorium, didn't laugh, but his lips curved in an amused smirk.

"Oh, no, I assure you, I'm quite serious," the professor assured them. "Of course, the writers obviously took a great deal of creative license, such as the inclusion of magic spells and things of that sort. But most of the _stories_ depicted in those 'fairy tales', as they're called, actually happened. Most of these people – Snow White and Prince Charming, for example – actually existed, once. They were normal people, obviously, without any of the additional mystique that has sprung up around the stories thanks to people like Disney. But the people themselves were, indeed, real."

Jackson raised an eyebrow. _Is this guy serious?_ he wondered.

"Anyway," the professor continued, returning his attention to the lesson at hand. "If I could have everyone's attention, and if you could all turn your books to page two hundred and sixty-seven, we can begin today's lesson."

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"Can you believe that guy?" Nigel asked with a grin, leaning against the wall in the dorm room that he and Jackson shared. "I mean, really. Snow White? Prince Charming?" He laughed. "Yeah, right!"

Jackson chuckled softly from where he was seated on his bed, his back against the wall. "Yeah. Weird."

Perhaps sensing something in the tone of Jackson's voice, Nigel turned to face him. "Are you all right, mate?" he asked, his voice now softer than it had been before. "What's botherin' you?"

Jackson sighed, removing his sunglasses and leaning back on his bed. "I don't know. It's just… I mean, Oxford's amazing, but… something about this place feels _wrong_. Like I'm not supposed to be here."

Nigel shrugged. "Well, what exactly are you planning to do about it?"

After a long moment of silence, Jackson murmured something under his breath.

"What did you say?" Nigel asked curiously.

Jackson opened his eyes, looking up at his roommate. Most of his inner turmoil had suddenly, and rather abruptly, vanished. Icy calm filled his mind.

"I could leave," he said softly.

Nigel's eyes widened in surprise. "Leave? Why?"

Jackson leaned forward, sitting upright and locking his gaze on Nigel. Whatever this was, this feeling of strength and certainty sweeping through him, he welcomed it. "Look, Nigel, I can't stay here. Not after everything my 'parents' have done. I almost _died_, and, instead of trying to help me get through that, what do they do? They ship me off to London, because they're too embarrassed by me to stay in Beacon Hills." He growled faintly, the sound almost imperceptible to Nigel. "I can't do this, man. I can't keep letting them control me like this. I'm done."

"So… what are you going to do?" Nigel asked.

Jackson grinned. "I've been thinking about this for a while now, actually. I've already transferred most of the money they've given me into an independent savings account, so they can't do anything with it. And frankly, I don't care about the money they still have; I have enough to start my own life, somewhere else, and that's all I'm concerned with." He looked back up at Nigel. "I'll leave this weekend, in three days; that should be enough time for me to get everything packed up and get out before they notice I'm gone."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Nigel protested. "You can't just _leave!_ What about all of your friends here? How am I supposed to get another bloody roommate, huh?"

With a chuckle, Jackson hugged Nigel. "You'll be fine," he said, smirking. "Invite Faye to move in; she practically lives here as it is."

Nigel laughed. "She does at that," he admitted. His amusement faded as he looked into Jackson's eyes, grasping his roommate's shoulders. "All kidding aside, though, Jackson… I can't empathize with what you're going through, but I can _sympathize_. And all I can say is…" He smiled, stepping back and holding out his hand. "Good luck, mate. I hope this is what you really want, and that you're sure about what you're getting into."

Jackson shook his friend's hand; he smirked faintly, but his eyes were deadly serious. "Trust me, Nigel; there are very few things I've been more sure about than this."

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_One week later_

_Maine_

Jackson hadn't looked back from that moment onward. He had packed up his things over the next three days, finished transferring as much money as he could into his own independent account, and moved out of the dorm. He took the next flight from London to New York, taking all of his things with him. He'd originally been planning to take a second flight from New York to Los Angeles, with the intention of returning to Beacon Hills; but he couldn't see that town yet. It would hold too many painful memories for him.

Therefore, Jackson had decided on another option; he'd heard once that he allegedly had some extended family in the northern part of Maine somewhere. So, he'd decided to see if he could track them down. After purchasing the nicest car they'd had at the airport dealership (a sleek black Lexus, as it turned out), he headed out, going north. He passed through Boston within a day, and kept going.

As the car accelerated down the road, Jackson smiled to himself as he looked around at the trees rising up on either side of the road, and the cloud-filled sky overhead. He rolled down the driver's-side window, letting a rush of cool air pour into the car as the rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. Jackson, being a werewolf, ignored the cold; he could barely feel it.

He would miss Nigel and the other friends he'd made in London, of course, but he'd been right; staying there was suffocating him. Right now, driving down a winding road through the dense forest, he felt better than he had for a long time.

That was when Jackson saw something ahead of him, by the side of the road; a large, wooden sign.

"Oh, thank god," he muttered to himself. It had been hours since he'd seen any other signs of civilization, and he'd begun to fear that he had gotten himself lost.

Pulling up next to the sign, Jackson blinked in curiosity as he leaned over to get a closer look at it.

In large cursive letters, the sign spelled out the words _Welcome to Storybrooke_.

Jackson frowned pensively.

"Storybrooke," he muttered. "I guess it would be too much to hope for a town with a normal name." Sighing, he stepped on the accelerator and drove onward, passing the sign and heading down the road.

As Jackson drove, he suddenly felt an odd tingling sensation throughout his body, as if an electrical current was running over his skin. It lasted for a few seconds, and then faded away.

Jackson shook his head, ignoring the odd sensation, and drove on.

_A town called Storybrooke, in the middle of the woods, miles from any other signs of civilization._

_Something tells me this should be interesting._

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**AN: Hello, everyone, and welcome to my newest story, **_**Lone Wolf**_**! I know this chapter wasn't very eventful, but I needed an introductory chapter to get Jackson to Storybrooke; things should be much more interesting after this.**

**To explain where this story is located time-wise; relative to the **_**Teen Wolf**_** timeline, it takes place at about the start of Season 3B. Relative to **_**Once Upon a Time**_**, Jackson will arrive in Storybrooke during the events of Season 1, Episode 10, "7:15 A.M." And yes, I will explain how he can find Storybrooke, when no one from the outside world is supposed to notice it.**

**I greatly appreciate feedback on my writing, so please review! (No hate, please).**

**See you all next time!**


	2. Storybrooke

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Once Upon a Time.**

.

**Chapter 2: Storybrooke**

_Long ago, in a faraway land…_

The large pond was calm and quiet. About half of the pond was frozen over, the ice thick enough to walk on in most places; the water of the other half was still, with only the occasional ripple disturbing the mirror-like image of the moonlit sky overhead.

Then, quite abruptly, the surface of the water burst upwards with a loud splash, as a pair of hands broke the surface, grasping the edge of the ice. They were followed quickly by two muscular arms, and then by a head and shoulders.

Gasping and coughing up water, a young man hauled himself out onto the ice, crawling painfully across the frozen surface until he was out of the water. Shaking, he scrambled across the ice and onto the cold, sandy shore at the edge of the pond.

The young man collapsed once he had reached the soft sand, rolling onto his back. His face was lean and sculpted, with prominent cheekbones and full lips. His eyes were an unusually bright blue, and his spiked-up hair was a shade of blonde so pale that it was almost pure white.

Coughing weakly, the boy stared up at the sky, his breathing rasping and shallow. He blinked repeatedly, trying to make sense of his surroundings.

_Where… where am I?_ he thought.

Rolling onto his side, he looked around, examining the area in which he found himself. Again, there was nothing to be seen. Only the pond, shining in the silver moonlight; the dark trees all around; and the moon, hanging in the sky overhead.

The young man picked himself up, managing to rise to his hands and knees. He discovered, to his surprise, that, although he was soaked to the bone, and there was snow and ice all around him, he was not nearly as cold as he would have expected. In fact, it felt as if he wasn't cold at all.

And, also to his surprise, he didn't have the faintest idea how he had gotten there.

He frowned in confusion. _How… how did I get here? The last thing I remember is…_

After a long moment, his eyes widened in shock.

He couldn't remember anything. The first memory he could find was of waking up at the bottom of the pond a couple of minutes ago. Before that, there was nothing; only darkness, and cold.

He couldn't remember anything about himself. He couldn't remember his name, his age, where he was from, whether he had a family… nothing.

"Who am I?" he whispered, his voice rasping from coughing up icy water. "What… what's my name?"

Whatever had happened to him, he reasoned, he couldn't stay here; he'd freeze to death. His best chance was to start walking, and see if he could find a house somewhere that could give him food and warm clothes.

He managed to gain his feet, with great effort, and then started walking away, heading off into the forest. As he walked, though, one of his feet bumped against something.

Looking down, he was surprised to see a large tree branch lying on the sand, at his feet. The branch appeared to have been crafted into a staff of some kind, about five feet long with an intricate curve at one end.

"Might be useful," he muttered to himself, reaching down and picking up the staff. Leaning on it as if it were a cane, he limped off into the forest, his balance becoming surer with each step.

On the one hand, he had no idea who he was, where he was, and where he had come from. He didn't know where he was going, or why he had awoken at the bottom of a frozen pond to begin with.

But, on the other hand, at least he was alive, and – although it still seemed odd – he wasn't freezing to death at the moment, which was always a plus.

The rest, he'd figure out later.

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_Granny's Diner_

_Storybrooke, Maine_

Sheriff Emma Swan walked into the diner, just in time to see Mary Margaret Blanchard, one of her closest friends, seated with her back to the door.

Emma frowned. _Didn't she say she was helping the kids with a science fair project at the school this morning?_

Walking over to Mary Margaret, Emma sat down across from her. "So, what happened to the science project?" she asked casually.

Mary Margaret jumped as Emma sat down, her eyes wide. "Emma! I… um… just wanted to, you know, stop by and get some coffee before I headed over there."

Even without her uncanny ability to tell when someone was lying, Emma knew that Mary Margaret was completely making this up. The young teacher kept glancing nervously around the room, clearly trying to avoid making eye contact with Emma.

Emma glanced over to the counter, unsurprised to see David Nolan in the process of getting his morning coffee. The young man didn't notice that they were watching him.

With a sigh, Emma turned back to face Mary Margaret. "How often have you been doing this?" she asked, indicating David with one hand. "Following him, I mean?"

Mary Margaret blushed, looking down at the table. "Not too often," she murmured. "Just the last couple of days."

"Not to judge," Emma said in as gentle of a tone as she could manage, "but most people would call that stalking."

Mary Margaret's eyes widened. "What?" she protested. "No, I'm not stalking him. I just know that he comes here at 7:15 every morning to get coffee." She blushed again, looking down as she murmured, "And then goes home, has breakfast and drives out to work at the animal shelter for the rest of the day."

Emma groaned internally. "Yeah, that's stalking," she said softly. "And it's not good for you, or for him." She placed a hand over Mary Margaret's, supportively. "I'm sorry, but you should stop doing this. It'll only hurt you."

Hesitantly raising her head to look Emma in the eye, Mary Margaret sighed in resignation. "You're right," she said. "You're right. I just…" She trailed off helplessly.

"Hey," Emma said. "I get it, I really do." She smiled faintly. "But I think you need to let him go."

Before Mary Margaret could reply, the rumbling sound of a car pulling up outside interrupted them. The sound was much louder than any car engine Emma had heard since arriving in Storybrooke; that was coming from a powerful engine.

A car door closed; footsteps crunched on gravel. Emma looked curiously towards the front door, behind Mary Margaret.

After a long moment, the front door of the diner opened, and a young man walked in. He was fairly tall, with clearly defined muscles visible under his shirt, and seemed to be in his late teens. He was wearing black leather shoes, blue jeans, a skintight red T-shirt, and a black leather jacket. His light brown hair was spiked up, and his clear blue eyes gleamed with amusement. His tan skin, prominent cheekbones and full lips combined for a fairly attractive appearance. All in all, he resembled a rich boy from a big city like New York more than he did the average resident of Storybrooke.

Emma had never seen him before; he was completely unfamiliar.

Mary Margaret, surprised by Emma's sudden change of focus, turned to look towards the door; her eyes widened in surprise, and she turned back to face Emma. "Who is that?" she asked.

"No idea," Emma replied. "Let's find out." Standing, she walked up to the front, intercepting the young man as he started towards the counter. "Morning," she said briskly. "Can I help you with something?"

The young man turned to face her, smiling faintly. "Uh, yeah, actually, you can," he said. "I'm just passing through, but in case you haven't noticed, there's a pretty bad storm brewing out there. And, since this town seems to be in the middle of nowhere, I'd rather not get caught out on the road in the middle of the woods during a thunderstorm. So, would you happen to know if there's a motel or something like that around here; anyplace I could spend the night?"

Momentarily taken off guard, Emma took a second to reply. "Yes, there is," she replied. "You should probably talk to Granny about that." She pointed towards the counter, where Granny had just emerged from the back room. "She runs the inn."

"Got it. Thanks." Nodding, the young man strolled past Emma and over to the counter, where he came to a stop in front of a very surprised Granny.

"Um, good morning… how can I help you?" she asked.

"Well, I was hoping I could get a room for the night," the young man said with a smile.

Granny's eyes widened in astonishment. "A… a room? Really?"

"Yeah." He indicated the clouds outside the window with one hand. "I'd rather not get caught out in that tonight, so a room would be very helpful. Would you happen to have one open?"

"I… yes! Definitely!" Granny said eagerly, rummaging through the drawers of the counter until she found a ledger and a pen. "Would you like a square view or a forest view?"

"Hmm…" The young man considered that for a moment, then smiled. "Forest, I think."

"Well, okay, then. What's the name?" Granny poised her pen over the ledger.

"Jackson. Jackson Whittemore."

Nodding, Granny quickly scribbled down the name on the ledger, then produced a key from her pocket and handed it to the young man. "The inn's right next door; you're in Room 3. Upstairs from the front room, second door on your left. I'll send Ruby over to help you get settled in."

The young man – Jackson – nodded. "Thanks, I appreciate it." Taking the key, he turned and left the diner, nodding to Emma as he passed her. The front door closed behind him.

"I might be wrong about this," David mused from where he was standing by the counter, "but this town doesn't usually get a lot of visitors, does it?"

"No," Granny answered, "it doesn't. Actually, now that I think about it… only three people come to mind. That guy who checked in last night; Emma; and now this boy."

Emma raised an eyebrow as she turned to face Granny. "That's _it?_ Really?"

Granny nodded. "Yes; you three are the only visitors who've checked into the inn for a long time."

Emma frowned, gazing after Jackson as he headed back towards his car. She felt a momentary chill run down her spine.

Something wasn't right about that kid.

And she was going to find out what it was.

.

_Granny's Inn_

The inn was pretty much exactly what Jackson had been expecting; a fairly quaint little place, with all of the classic small-town charm.

Jackson knocked on the front door and gently opened it, stepping inside and glancing around. "Hello?" he called, walking into the front room and tapping on the front counter. "Anyone here?" He remembered that Granny had said something about sending "Ruby" over to help him find his room, but there was clearly no one here.

"Can I help you?" a girl's voice asked from directly behind him.

Jackson whipped around, his eyes wide in surprise. _No one_ should have been able to sneak up on him without his acute hearing picking them up.

The girl standing behind him was slightly shorter than he was, with shoulder-length dark hair streaked with red. Her eyes were light green, which went well with her dark hair and pale skin. She was wearing a white, tied-off top and white-and-red shorts that ended above her knees. All in all, the word "knockout" could safely be used to describe her.

Jackson grinned, still feeling slightly uneasy that she'd been able to sneak up behind him without his noticing. "You're Ruby, I presume."

"Yep," she replied coolly, looking him up and down. "And you are…?"

"I'm Jackson," he replied with a smirk. "Jackson Whittemore. I was told that I'm in Room 3; could you show me where that is?"

Ruby nodded. "Sure; follow me. First, though; did you have any bags in the car?"

"Yeah; hang on, I'll get them." Jackson ducked out the door before she could say anything, hurrying over to his car. He popped the trunk of the black Lexus, lifting a suitcase out with each hand. Setting down one suitcase, he closed the trunk, then turned and walked back to the front door of the inn.

Ruby was waiting when he walked back into the room. "About time," she commented.

"Hey, you try lifting these," Jackson countered. It was actually a lot easier than he let on; his superhuman strength made lifting the suitcases as easy as if they'd been empty. Their size still made it somewhat awkward to get them through the doorway.

Ruby snorted. "Whatever. Come on; your room's this way."

Jackson followed her up a flight of stairs and down a hallway, until she came to a stop in front of a door marked with the number 3. Setting down his suitcases, Jackson removed the key Granny had given him from his pocket, unlocked the door, and opened it.

The room was pleasant enough; there was a bed, a small nightstand, a dresser with a television on top of it, and a closet with a full-length mirror. A sliding glass door in one wall offered a view of the forest outside.

"Let me know if you need anything," Ruby said. "Welcome to Storybrooke." She turned with a wink and sauntered out of the room, obviously heading back to the diner.

Jackson smirked, closing the door behind her and then lifting his suitcases onto the bed.

"Interesting place," he murmured to himself, glancing out through the glass door into the forest. "I have a feeling I'm going to like it here."

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**AN: And here we are again. I hope you guys are all enjoying this story!**

**If anyone would like to guess who the young man in the opening scene was, I will say that the scene **_**did**_** take place in the fairy-tale world; we'll have to wait to discover the young man's true identity. He will be very important to the story, though.**

**Shoutout to Tala White 14 for reviewing, I really appreciate the feedback!**

**See you all next time!**

**Review Q&A:**

**Q: Cool start! I can't wait to see where this is going! Your writing is very fluent and I like the vivid descriptions. I'm also really excited at the prospect of seeing a bit more of Ruby, who is my favourite character in OUAT. Please write more!**

**A: Thanks, I'm glad you're enjoying the story!**

**And yeah, we'll definitely be seeing Ruby quite often in this story.**


	3. Chance Encounters

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Once Upon a Time.**

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**Chapter 3: Chance Encounters**

_In a faraway land…_

The young man continued walking, trudging wearily through the dark forest. Only the moon, still floating in the sky overhead and gleaming silver, illuminated his surroundings.

As he walked, leaning on the staff to support himself, the young man continued to think, trying as hard as he could to find something, any memory that could tell him who he was. So far, he had found nothing; his past was still a complete blank. He had discovered, however, that his affliction appeared to be quite specific. He could still remember background information; he knew how to speak, how to walk, and everything of that sort. He knew what different things were called, and lots of other information about animals, the seasons, and so on.

The only things he _couldn't_ remember, in fact, were those directly related to his own past. He couldn't remember his name, where he was from, or anything else about himself. He had no idea how he'd ended up at the bottom of that pond, or if he had a family who would be looking for him.

So he kept walking, knowing that eventually, he would have to run across someone who could help him.

There was really nothing else to do.

After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a couple of hours, something finally presented itself to him; a faint orange light, filtering through the trees from somewhere far ahead. It could only originate from a small fire, which meant that there was someone up ahead.

Gripping the staff tightly, the young man started towards the light. Hopefully, whoever was at that fire would be friendly.

It took a few minutes for him to reach the source of the light, but he finally made it. Slipping into the shadows behind a tree, he glanced out in an attempt to identify the person responsible for the fire.

He had been right, as it turned out; the light was emanating from a decent-sized campfire. Seated beside the fire was a young woman with shoulder-length, dark curly hair. Her face was turned away from him, as she gazed into the crackling flames.

The young man shifted position slightly, attempting to see her face. In the process, he accidentally stepped on a small branch lying at his feet.

The _crack_ of the branch breaking echoed through the surrounding trees.

Instantly, the young woman seated by the fire scrambled to her feet and whirled, drawing a long knife from a sheath at her waist. "Who's there?" she demanded. "Show yourself!"

The young man froze, not moving a muscle to avoid giving away his position. After a long moment, however, he made his decision. He was exhausted, and badly needed food, water, and warmth. Besides, this woman didn't seem particularly dangerous.

Tightening his hold on his staff, he stepped out from behind the tree.

The woman's eyes locked on him the instant he showed himself. She took a step back, raising her knife, but he raised a hand to stop her.

"Please, don't. I'm not going to hurt you." He coughed, leaning on his staff. "I just… I've lost my way, and I am in dire need of warmth and food. I saw your fire, and I was hoping you could help me."

Her expression didn't waver. "And why should I believe anything you say?" she said coolly. "You could easily be here to kill me."

The young man actually chuckled at that, the sound harsh and grating. "If I wanted to harm you, I wouldn't have shown myself when you asked. And I would have brought a better weapon than a stick." He hefted his staff as if to show it off, grinning weakly, but immediately staggered and had to lean on the staff again to regain his balance.

She raised an eyebrow. "Fair point. What happened to you?"

"I…" he paused, coughing again. "I fell into a pond," he continued after he regained his breath, deciding to bend the truth a little so he didn't sound insane. "I managed to get out, but I became completely lost. I've been wandering around out here for hours, and I finally saw a fire – yours – and went towards it." He held out his free hand, speaking as earnestly as possible. "I mean you no harm; I swear. I only need some food, to sit by your fire and warm myself, and directions to the nearest town. Then I will leave you in peace."

The woman considered that for a moment, and then sighed. "All right; you may sit by the fire. But I'll be watching you."

"Thank you," the young man said, smiling as he walked over to the girl and sat down as close to the fire as possible, craving the warmth. Even though, somehow, he still didn't really feel the cold, the heat of the flames was irresistible.

"What's your name?" the young woman asked, as she sat down on the other side of the fire, glancing at him warily.

The young man cast back into his memories once again, but, as ever, he found nothing. He sighed, staring into the fire. "To be perfectly honest with you… I don't know."

She scoffed. "As if I would believe that. How could you not know your name?"

Looking up at her, the young man chuckled briefly. "That's the least of it. I can't remember _anything_ about myself. My name, my age, where I come from, whether I have a family… it's all gone. It's as if all of my memories – everything I am – have been erased." He leaned closer to the fire, brushing a thin coating of frost off of the brown leather jacket he wore. "Everything is gone. I woke up in the forest just a few hours ago, with no idea who or where I was. I started searching for someone who could tell me, and that search eventually led me to your fire."

The woman had remained silent during his account; however, her frown had softened, and much of her hostility had dissolved from behind her eyes.

"There's a village about half a day's journey from here," she said after a long pause. "I can take you there in the morning. If you do have a family who are looking for you, that's where they must live."

The young man's eyes widened in surprise. "You would do that for me?" he asked.

She smiled. "It's the decent thing to do. No one should have to lose their family."

Turning, she walked over to where a canopy had been set up between two smaller trees at the edge of the little clearing. Removing a large sack from the shelter, she carried it back to the fire and, setting it down, removed two loaves of bread from within the sack. Tossing one to the young man, she bit into the second.

"Eat up," she advised, swallowing her first bite of the loaf. "We will have a journey ahead of us in the morning, and you're going to need your strength."

Nodding, the young man tore off a piece of his own loaf with his fingers, placing it in his mouth, and started chewing.

"Out of curiosity," he inquired, "what's _your_ name?"

She paused for a moment, her back straightening, and looked down at the ground, refusing to meet his eyes. After a long silence, she appeared to come to a decision, and faced him again. "Call me Snow."

.

_Storybrooke, Maine_

Jackson woke up to the sounds of birds chirping outside. He smiled, stretching his arms and rolling over in bed. Through the glass sliding doors, he could see sunlight shining through the clouds, illuminating the forest just behind the inn.

The storm that had hammered Storybrooke for the past few days was finally over.

Jackson, since he didn't know anyone in this town, had spent his time holed up in his room at Granny's, waiting out the storm. The only place he had gone was a quick dash through the rain to the diner next door for meals; other than that, he had simply laid back, reading a book or simply relaxing, as he listened to the constant rattling of the rain against the roof of the inn.

Sighing, Jackson crawled out of bed and stood up, looking around. The rain had stopped completely, but everything outside was still soaking wet, gleaming in the early morning sun.

Dressing quickly in a dark gray T-shirt, blue jeans and his usual black leather jacket, Jackson strolled out of his room and down the stairs to the front desk. Granny and Ruby were nowhere to be seen; obviously, they must be at the diner, dealing with the breakfast rush.

Donning his sunglasses, Jackson walked out the door into the crisp, clear morning. Walking across the parking lot to the diner while avoiding puddles of water, he opened the front door and ducked inside.

As he'd expected, Ruby was hurrying around the room, serving coffee and other drinks, while Granny stood behind the counter, taking customers' orders. Grinning, Jackson selected a booth in the corner, sitting down and waiting.

Ruby, of course, saw him; she arrived at his table a couple of minutes later. "Morning," she said. "What can I get you?"

"Scrambled eggs, with a side of ham and hash browns," Jackson said, reciting what was rapidly becoming his "usual" breakfast order with a smile. "And an apple juice."

"Coming right up," Ruby replied with a smile, scrawling down his order on the notepad in her hand and replacing it in her pocket as she walked away.

Nodding in satisfaction, Jackson reached into his jacket pocket and took out a book he'd been reading; _The Hound of the Baskervilles_, by Arthur Conan Doyle. Sherlock Holmes stories had always fascinated him, and, as a werewolf, he found it amusing to be reading a murder mystery about a monstrous dog.

"Cool book," a high-pitched voice said.

Jackson looked up in surprise, his eyes falling on a young boy standing next to the booth. The kid looked like he was about ten years old, but there was a glint of intelligence in his eyes that belied his young age.

"Have you read it?" Jackson asked, tapping the book with his right index finger.

The boy nodded. "Yeah, my class read it in school once. It's a good story; I love mysteries."

Jackson chuckled. "Agreed."

The kid hesitated for a moment, and then took a step forward, frowning. "I haven't seen you around before."

"Well, that'd be because I just got here a couple of days ago," Jackson replied casually. "I stopped in right before the storm hit, and I've been hiding out over in the inn for the past few days."

The boy's eyes widened. "You mean… you're not from Storybrooke?"

Jackson grinned. "No, just passing through."

It was obvious that the boy was very bothered by Jackson's revelation that he was from out of town; he stared intently at Jackson for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "I should probably go; school starts pretty soon." He started to leave, then stopped and asked, "What's your name?"

Jackson raised an eyebrow. "My name's Jackson. What's yours?"

"I'm Henry." With that, the kid turned and hurried out of the diner.

"What did he want?" Ruby inquired curiously as she returned to the booth with Jackson's order.

"Who, the kid?" Jackson asked. He shrugged. "Well, he complimented the book I'm reading, then started acting all weird when I told him I was from out of town. So, really, I have no idea what he wanted. Nice kid, though."

"Yeah, he is," Ruby agreed. "He's the Mayor's son, actually."

"Huh." Jackson considered that for a moment. "You know, I haven't actually met the mayor yet."

"For your sake, I hope you don't," Ruby replied with a smirk. "Just between us," she stated as she bent down, lowering her voice, "she's a cold-hearted bitch. But she runs the town, basically, and most people are terrified of her."

"Sounds nice," Jackson commented sarcastically. "You said _most_ people?"

"Yeah. Sheriff Swan, for one, isn't afraid of Regina – that's the mayor's name – in the least. Hates her guts, yeah, but she's not afraid of her."

"Sheriff Swan?" Jackson mulled that over for a moment; something about that name seemed familiar. "She wouldn't happen to be a tall blonde woman, would she?"

"Yeah, she is," Ruby confirmed.

"Okay, I thought so; she was in the diner when I first got here, before the storm hit." Jackson grinned faintly. "You're not wrong about her; that one's got nerves of steel, from the look of her."

Ruby chuckled. "No kidding." She brushed back a lock of brown hair, her smirk returning. "Anything else you'd like?"

_Was that a come-on?_ Jackson thought to himself. He laughed inwardly. _You're getting out of practice, Jackson. _Obviously_, that was a come-on. Now, how to respond…_

"Nah, I'm good for now," he replied casually, indicating the food. "Thanks for the food, though."

Looking somewhat disappointed, Ruby turned to leave. Before she'd taken more than a couple of steps, however, Jackson called, "I would like to get your phone number, though."

Ruby paused for a moment, and then turned around, grinning. "Now, why would I need to do that? You and I live on the same block; I see you in here every day anyway."

"Yes, but this way I know I'll be able to get in touch with you even when you're not working," Jackson replied with a wink.

Ruby blushed faintly, despite herself. "All right, then," she replied, removing a pen and her notepad from the pocket of her apron. She set the notepad on the table, scrawled down a phone number on it in red ink, and then tore off the slip with the number on it, handing it to Jackson. "Call me." She winked and strolled back over to the counter.

Jackson watched her walk back into the kitchen. Shaking his head, he grinned, folding the napkin with Ruby's phone number on it and putting it in his pocket.

"This town's starting to grow on me," he murmured to himself.

Jackson inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and leaning back in the booth as he stretched; his back had felt a bit stiff. Sighing, he settled back into the seat and returned his attention to his food.

Then he stopped, his eyes widening in momentary confusion. His irises flickered bright blue.

When he'd sucked in a deep breath of air, his acute sense of smell had picked up something… odd. It was all around him, hanging in the air like perfume, but it was so faint that he hadn't been able to pick it up until now. It almost smelled like…

Jackson frowned. _A werewolf? No, not quite… but it does feel similar. But that's impossible… isn't it?_

He considered for a moment. _Then again, considering how far out in the wilderness this town is, maybe it's not so impossible._

His eyes flicked around, scanning the room, but no one seemed to fit the type, and there didn't seem to be a particular source for the scent; it was very faint, but there seemed to be traces of it everywhere.

After a long moment, Jackson decided not to worry about it. If there was another werewolf in here, he would have been able to tell within seconds.

Shrugging, he returned his attention to the food Ruby had brought him. But, as he ate, he couldn't quite rid himself of the unease in the back of his mind.

For the first time since arriving in Storybrooke, Jackson got a strong sense that things here weren't as ordinary as they appeared.

.

**AN: And here we are again. Hope you guys all enjoyed this chapter!**

**Shoutout to Tala White 14 for reviewing, I appreciate the feedback!**

**Next time, we learn more about the young man in the Enchanted Forest, and Jackson encounters several of Storybrooke's other inhabitants… stay tuned!**

**See you all next time!**

**Review Q&A:**

**Q: Ooh! I did so not see that coming! My word, this is getting better and better! Very intriguing (don't have a clue how to spell that) plot unfolding. I'm so excited to see what happens next. Please update soon!**

**A: Thanks! Yeah, I'm going to be making some significant deviations from canon as a result of Jackson's arrival in Storybrooke. The first such deviation was the introduction of the young man in the Enchanted Forest last chapter; I will continue to elaborate on his story as we go on. And his identity will be revealed eventually, but not yet.**


	4. Cold as Ice

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Once Upon a Time.**

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**Chapter 4: Cold as Ice**

_In the Enchanted Forest…_

The forest was filled with radiant beams of gleaming orange light; the sun was setting on the horizon, its radiance lighting their path.

The young man followed the girl, Snow, through the trees. His limp had all but vanished, but he had kept ahold of the staff. It felt familiar to him, almost as if he had held it before, and it was comforting.

"How far away is this place, anyway?" he asked. They had been walking for most of the day, and he was getting tired.

"It's not far now," Snow assured him.

Sighing, the young man paused, looking around. "Wonderful," he muttered, and followed after Snow.

"What am I supposed to call you, anyway?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Believe me, if I remember my name, I'll let you know."

.

The sun had set by the time they finally reached the inn, about an hour later. The young man followed Snow out of the trees and up to the building, which was illuminated by torches mounted outside the front door. Several horses were tethered around the sides of the building, and the windows were brightly lit.

"Follow me, and don't talk to anyone," Snow instructed him.

Nodding, the young man trailed after her as she walked up to the front door, pushed it open and entered.

The first sensation he became aware of was the _noise_; a ceaseless babble of voices and laughter, loud enough that he flinched involuntarily as soon as he stepped through the door.

Snow's reaction was much less noticeable; she headed straight for the back of the room, keeping her gaze lowered. Clearly, she didn't want to draw attention to herself. The young man could fully understand that decision.

Lowering the hood on his jacket to partially conceal his face, the young man followed Snow through the crowded room, holding his staff close to his side in order to avoid hitting people with it. Slipping between two large men discussing a recent battle, he made his way over to Snow, who had found a seat at a small table in the back. She seemed nervous, and was constantly glancing about while keeping her head down.

"What's wrong?" he asked curiously.

Snow looked up at him, her eyes narrowed. "I'm not overly fond of places like this," she said quietly. "Too many people."

The young man raised an eyebrow. "Why are we here, then?"

"Because, if anyone who knows you happens to be in here, then you can go home," she replied. "If not… well, there's a town a few leagues down the road. We can try there next."

The young man nodded after a moment. "Sounds good to me."

They spent a considerable amount of time seated inconspicuously at the corner table. The young man made his way to and from the bar several times for drinks; Snow's nervous attitude only seemed to get worse as the night wore on, and he still couldn't figure out why.

The young man was also becoming increasingly frustrated as the night wore on. He had not seen anyone who seemed even remotely familiar, and no one else had shown the slightest signs of recognizing him. He was beginning to wonder if all of this was a waste of time.

Finally, after almost two hours, the young man was making his fourth visit to the bar. He nodded dismissively to the bartender, picking up a mug in each hand. But as he was about to head back to his table, he was distracted by a raised voice.

"Evening, darling!" a man's voice called out. "Can I buy you a drink?"

The young man turned, seeing that the man in question, garbed in a black uniform, was standing over the table that he had been sitting at. Snow was shrinking away from him, trying to hide herself under the hood of her jacket.

"Uh, no, thank you," she murmured. "I'm fine."

"Ah, come on, love! Live a little!" The man grinned, showing yellowing teeth.

The young man had seen about all that he cared to of this; he hurried across the room, pushing his way through the crowd.

"Look, I'm not interested," Snow said firmly. "Now, please, leave me alone."

The man laughed, clearly ignoring her, and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Feisty one, aren't you?"

"Excuse me," the young man said in a polite but firm voice, as he grasped the man's arm with one hand. "I think my friend would prefer to be left in peace."

The man turned, glaring at him. "And who exactly might you be, _boy?_"

Smiling faintly, the young man locked eyes with the man, calm and unafraid. "Now, that's a good question," he remarked. "Honestly, I'm not sure who I am. But I _am_ sure that I'm not the type of person who stands by and watches something like this." He leaned casually on his staff, and his lips curved in a smirk.

The man's eyes narrowed, and he growled. "You think you're tough, boy? I'm a soldier in the Queen's army, and you had better show some respect when you're talking to me!"

The young man's smile faded, his face becoming serious. His stance shifted slightly, and he planted both feet firmly on the floor.

"Don't…" Snow said urgently, but the young man ignored her.

"'Show some respect,' huh?" He chuckled. "Well, I can't very well do that unless I see someone who actually seems to _deserve_ my respect, now, can I?"

That did it. With a snarl, the soldier swung a punch, aimed directly at his face.

To the young man, the soldier's fist seemed to be moving in slow motion; he easily ducked the punch, then whipped his staff around in a sweeping blow that knocked the man's feet out from under him and sent him crashing to the floor, flat on his back.

The young man's eyes widened in surprise. _Did I really just do that?_

The soldier picked himself up, growling under his breath. "That's it, boy!" he snapped. "You're going to pay for that!" He drew a long knife from a sheath on his leg and lunged.

The young man reacted instantly. Sidestepping the initial stab of the knife, he spun, hurling the contents of the mugs he was holding directly into the man's face. With a cry, the soldier staggered backwards, temporarily blinded.

That was all the time the young man needed; he swung his left arm, smashing one of the mugs against the man's head. The mug shattered, and the soldier crumpled to the floor.

Turning, the young man looked down at Snow. "Snow, are you all right?" he asked.

Snow was staring at him in shock, but before she could say anything, another man's voice yelled, "Hey!"

The young man turned, just in time to see half a dozen other men who'd been sitting at the bar stand up and start towards him. They were all wearing nearly identical black uniforms, and each of them was drawing either a sword or knife.

_This could be a problem,_ the young man thought to himself.

"We have to go," Snow whispered. "_Now._"

"Snow… that's what you called her, isn't it?" one of the men asked curiously, his eyes shifting from the young man to Snow. "That wouldn't happen to be Snow _White_, by any chance?"

Snow didn't reply, but she inhaled sharply, and that was enough for the young man to tell that he was right. The name meant nothing to him, but the fact that the soldiers had recognized her clearly wasn't good.

Apparently taking that as his answer, the lead soldier grinned. "As I thought." He drew his sword. "The Queen's expecting you, Snow White. I have a feeling she'll be very pleased with us for bringing you in."

The young man took a step backwards, placing himself solidly between Snow and the soldiers as he set down the remaining mug and raised his staff in a two-handed grip. Whoever she really was, there was no doubt in his mind which side he was on here.

The soldier raised an eyebrow. "You really don't want to do that, boy."

"Actually," the young man replied coolly, "I do."

"No, don't!" Snow gasped, but he ignored her.

The soldier scowled, but then shrugged. "Fine." Waving a hand to the other soldiers, he indicated the young man. "Kill him."

With identical grins, the other five soldiers rushed him simultaneously. The rest of the inn's patrons scattered, rushing to get out of the way.

The young man acted immediately. Kicking a nearby chair into the legs of an oncoming soldier and knocking him off-balance, he deflected a knife thrust from another man with his staff and slammed the staff against the man's head in the same fluid motion. The soldier was knocked off his feet and crumpled to the ground, knocking over a table.

Snow jumped up, drawing her knife and slashing at another soldier, while two more rushed at the young man with drawn swords. He spun between them, easily dodging their clumsy swings, and hammered one man over the head with his staff, stunning him. The other soldier whirled on him, stabbing with his sword, but the young man spun his staff, parrying the blow. To his surprise, the wood was completely undamaged by the collision with the sword; it was clearly stronger than it looked.

Snow ducked under a slash from a soldier's weapon, slicing her knife across his leg. He recoiled with a cry of pain, staggering and nearly falling. Jumping up, she kicked him in the chest, knocking him off-balance. Stumbling away, he crashed into a table and fell backwards over it, cracking his head against the floor and losing consciousness.

A precisely aimed jab from the young man's staff caught the soldier he was fighting in the throat; he reeled backwards, choking, and swung a wild blow with his sword. The young man sidestepped, and swung his staff with his full strength behind the blow. The tough wood cracked against the man's skull, knocking him unconscious.

The young man turned, just in time to see Snow hurling one of the two remaining soldiers headfirst into the wall. She hadn't realized that the leader of the soldiers was stalking up behind her, raising his sword to stab her.

With a yell of anger, the young man charged forward, jumping over a table. He hit the soldier with a full-body tackle, spinning him around and slamming him into the wall. The older man's sword slid from his hand and clattered to the floor.

The young man felt burning hatred rush through him. He seized the soldier by the throat with one hand, holding him in an unbreakable grip. The man grabbed at his hand, trying to pry the grip loose, but to no avail.

"You will _never_ harm her, do you hear me?!" the young man snarled, tightening his grip. "You're going to get your friends, and you're going to leave. Do you understand me?" His anger only grew, and he felt an odd sensation; a surge of cold, as if icy water was flowing down his spine.

The soldier gasped in shock and pain, clutching desperately at the young man's hand. His eyes were wide and terrified.

And then something very unusual happened.

As the young man's grasp tightened again, the soldier's skin began to change color. His previously tan skin began to turn pale white, then gray… and then _blue_. He gasped, flailing weakly in an attempt to free himself.

And then, to the young man's astonishment, a coating of frost began to form over the soldier's skin, steadily thickening.

He was being covered in ice.

"No!" Snow cried, grabbing at the young man's arm and trying to pull him off of the soldier. "Stop! He doesn't deserve to die! Let him go!"

After a long moment, the young man finally released his grip on the soldier's throat, lowering his arm and stepping back. The soldier crumpled to the floor, gasping desperately for air. The ice and frost that had been coating his face and neck thawed instantly, disappearing. His skin returned to its normal color.

The young man stared in disbelief at the palms of his hands, unable to process what had just happened.

"Go!" Snow snapped, pulling at his arm and urging him towards the door. "We have to leave, now!"

Startled, the young man turned to face her, his eyes wide. "Yes… yes, you're right."

Hurrying through the wreckage and past the bodies of the seven fallen soldiers, the pair burst out through the front door of the inn and started running. They sprinted down the path for a short distance, and then cut off course, darting into the forest.

.

_Storybrooke, Maine_

Jackson was seated in his usual booth at Granny's, enjoying a late dinner. He smirked as he saw Ruby exit the kitchen, but averted his eyes and returned his attention to the grilled cheese sandwich he had ordered.

Jackson had been in Storybrooke for about a week now, and he had yet to regret it. The town was an extremely pleasant place to live; although he hadn't met more than a few of the residents, they all seemed like perfectly nice people.

As Jackson glanced out the window, he noticed the moon hanging in the night sky, gleaming silver.

An idea occurred to him.

The corner of Jackson's mouth twitched in a grin. _You know, I haven't seen the woods around here yet… and I _am_ feeling pretty bored…_

"Anything else I can get you?" Ruby asked, pausing next to his booth.

Jackson turned, surprised; he hadn't noticed her. "Just the check, please," he replied with a smile. "I feel like going out for a run."

A few minutes later, Jackson strolled out of the front door of the diner. He walked around the side of the building, into the parking lot behind it. Looking up at the moon, he let his inner wolf rise to the surface for the first time since he'd come to Storybrooke. His eyes flashed blue, as his fangs and claws extended.

Jackson grinned, and then sprang into motion, moving in a blur. He darted across the parking lot and into the trees, vanishing into the woods within seconds.

.

In the woods outside Storybrooke, Emma Swan was examining her crashed car. Scowling, she turned, planting her hands on her hips, and glared into the surrounding trees.

"Well, this is just great," she muttered.

Sidney Glass, her partner in the plan they'd concocted to expose Regina's corruption, was examining the damaged car. "I don't know how that could have happened; the brakes were working before, weren't they?"

"Yeah, they were," Emma replied. She sighed in frustration. "Which means someone cut the brakes."

"So what do you want to do?" Sidney inquired. "I can call a mechanic, if you want."

Emma considered for a long moment, but eventually shook her head.

"No," she decided. "I've had enough of this. We're doing this _now_." She started off down the road, beckoning Sidney to follow her. "Come on; let's go."

Nervously, Sidney followed, trailing after her.

As they were about to enter the woods, Emma was halted by the sound of an echoing howl. It was clearly coming from a long distance away, but it was unmistakable.

She turned to face Sidney, her eyes wide in surprise. "Was that a _wolf?_"

Sidney shrugged. "Most likely, yes. We do have those here."

"Huh." Emma blinked, looking back out into the woods. The sound had sent a chill down her spine, but she ignored it. _Relax, Emma. You're in the middle of Maine; _obviously_ there are wolves out here._ "All right, then. Let's get moving."

.

Jackson hurtled through the darkened woods, running on all fours to increase his speed. His glowing blue eyes illuminated the darkness, enabling him to easily maneuver through the dense forest.

Jumping onto a fallen tree, Jackson howled again, the cry echoing through the forest. Leaping off the tree trunk, he landed lightly on the forest floor. He smiled predatorily and breathed in deeply, taking in the scents of everything around him.

It had been a very long time since Jackson had really been able to let his inner wolf loose. London hadn't exactly been conducive to roaming about at night, and he had been forced to restrain himself as a result. As a result, he intended to make the most of this opportunity. The moon wasn't full, which meant that he was still in full control; he was simply relaxing, letting his wolf guide him, instead of suppressing it.

Just then, a scent caught his attention; a human scent, nearby. Reversing his transformation, Jackson rose to his feet and glanced around, searching for the source of the intriguing aroma.

A few seconds later, another sense detected something; the sound of leaves and pine needles crunching underfoot drew his attention. Jackson's head snapped around, his eyes flickering blue again as he ducked behind a tree to conceal himself.

After about ten seconds, the source of the footsteps came into view; a distinguished-looking man in a dark blue business suit, leaning on a cane to support himself. He had shoulder-length brown hair, which was slicked back, and had a casual air about him.

As the man approached Jackson's hiding place behind the tree, he paused, looking around. For a moment, Jackson was worried that the man knew he was there… but then the guy continued walking onward through the trees, without even glancing towards the tree where Jackson had concealed himself. Just like that, he was gone.

Jackson stepped out from behind the tree, glancing in the direction that the man had gone. Something about that guy seemed oddly familiar, and it had discomforted him.

Shrugging, he turned to leave, starting in the opposite direction.

"Can I be of service to you, young man?" a male, accented voice asked from behind him.

Jackson froze, his eyes wide in shock. There was no way someone should have been able to sneak up behind him. That shouldn't have been _possible!_

He turned slowly, to see, as he'd expected, the guy in the blue business suit. The man's eyes widened when Jackson turned around, as if he was extremely surprised to see him, but he regained his composure almost immediately. "And who might you be?" he asked casually.

Jackson's eyes narrowed. "I'm Jackson," he replied. "Jackson Whittemore. And who exactly are you?"

The man smiled. "Ah, forgive me; we don't get many visitors to this town." He walked forward, leaning on his cane and extending his free hand in greeting. "My name is Mr. Gold. It's a pleasure to meet you… Jackson."

"Uh, thanks." Jackson shook his hand, somewhat hesitantly. The man's hand felt perfectly normal, and his scent was ordinary, but something about him made Jackson uneasy.

"So, what brings you out into the woods at this hour?" Mr. Gold inquired.

"I was just out for a run," Jackson replied guardedly.

"In the middle of the night?" Gold raised an eyebrow. "An interesting choice."

Jackson's eyes narrowed. "Why does it matter to you?"

Gold smiled faintly. "It doesn't; I was just curious." He gazed at Jackson for another moment, as if examining him, with an odd expression on his face. "Well, I should probably be on my way. It's a pleasure to meet you… Jackson." Turning, he strolled off down the path, disappearing into the forest.

Jackson stared after Gold for a long moment.

"What the hell was that about?" he muttered to himself.

Trying to put Gold out of his mind, Jackson shook his head and started walking in the opposite direction. He looked up, his eyes seeking out the silver disc of the moon again.

_Now, then…_

Jackson's eyes flashed blue, and he grinned. A moment later, he started running again, losing himself in the sensation of the cold night air and the scents and sounds of the forest.

.

As Mr. Gold limped down the path through the forest, he tried to calm his racing thoughts. But as hard as he thought, he kept coming back to the same conclusion.

_It's impossible!_ he thought to himself. _It can't be him. There's no way he could be here!_

But he kept seeing images of that boy, Jackson. The blue eyes, confident smirk, spiked-up blonde hair… he would have recognized him anywhere. If Jackson's hair had been white, they would have been exactly alike.

_Even the name…_ Gold thought, scowling. _But it's not _possible_! He shouldn't be here!_

For the first time in a very long time, Mr. Gold had no idea how to deal with a situation.

And it wasn't a good feeling.

.

**AN: And here we are again. Sorry it's taken me so long to update, I've been very busy lately and haven't had much time to write. Hopefully this chapter made up for it!**

**Just in case anybody's wondering, this chapter takes place during Season 1, Episode 11, "Fruit of the Poisonous Tree". The scenes in the Enchanted Forest are taking place after the Huntsman helped Snow to escape from the Queen, but before she meets Red Riding Hood. I just wanted to clarify that, because I know it can be confusing.**

**Shoutouts to Tala White 14 and Guest for reviewing, I really appreciate it!**

**Next chapter, we find out why Mr. Gold seems to recognize Jackson, more of the young man's story is explained, and Jackson becomes involved with more of Storybrooke's residents… stay tuned!**

**See you all next time!**

**Review Q&A:**

**Q: Wow, and the plot is thickening even more. Ugh, I can barely control my curiosity. I can't wait to see what happens next. You have an amazing way with words. Please update soon. This is soooo good!**

**A: Well, I hope this chapter was to your liking, then! Thanks, I really appreciate the compliment! :)**

**Q: Hey. Loving the story so far. The interactions are awesome and so are the flashes from FTL. Can't wait for the next update.**

**A: Thanks, I'm glad you're enjoying the story!**


	5. Snow and Frost

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Once Upon a Time.**

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**Chapter 5: Snow and Frost**

_The Dark Castle, in the Enchanted Forest…_

Belle, a young princess who had given herself over to Rumplestiltskin in order to ensure her kingdom's safety, was hard at work dusting the Dark Castle's library. She whistled cheerfully to herself, cleaning off shelf after shelf.

Belle was interrupted by the sound of the library door closing. Surprised, she hopped down from the stool she'd been standing on and walked down the aisle until she could see the library's door.

"Rumple?" she called. "Did you need me for something?"

As she rounded the corner, Belle frowned in confusion. There was no one standing by the door.

"Rumple?" Belle asked again, walking forward and glancing around. Hearing a sound from behind her, she turned, but again, there was no one there.

"Hello?" she called, beginning to grow nervous.

She heard footsteps from behind her, and turned again, hurrying over and looking down one aisle. Once again, she didn't see anyone; this time, however, something caught her eye. A faint gleam of light, coming from the flat side of one of the bookshelves.

Walking down to the next intersection of aisles between the tall bookshelves, Belle looked more closely at the source of the gleam. Her eyes widened in surprise.

The source of the light was a human handprint, etched onto the bookshelf. As she touched it hesitantly – and then immediately jerked her hand back with a startled gasp – she realized that the reason the handprint was reflective was because it was made of _ice_. The handprint had been frozen onto the bookshelf, and was now slowly thawing, giving off faint wisps of steam.

"Is anyone there?" Belle said uneasily as she turned and started walking down the aisle, towards the exit from the library.

As she emerged from among the bookshelves, into the reading area where several tables were arranged, Belle froze in shock.

Seated at one of the tables, casually leaning back while leafing through a book, was a young man, appearing to be about her age. His hair was spiked up and a shade of blonde so pale that it was almost pure white, and his eyes were a bright, clear blue. That, combined with his prominent cheekbones, full lips and pale skin, combined to make him fairly attractive. He was wearing a light blue shirt under a brown jacket, with loose-fitting, light brown pants.

After a moment, the young man looked up, smiling in a friendly way when he saw Belle. "Ah, hello," he greeted her. "And who might you be?"

Belle stood there for a long moment, staring at him in disbelief. After a long moment, she responded. "I… uh, I'm Belle. Sorry, who exactly are you? And… how did you get in here?"

The young man grinned. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Belle." He glanced around the room, setting the book down on the table. "Would you mind telling me where I can find Rumplestiltskin?"

Still totally confused, Belle hesitated, trying to find the words to answer. "He, ah… he should be around here somewhere…"

As if her words had summoned him, Rumplestiltskin walked into the library, letting the door swing shut behind him. "Belle, dearie, how's the cleaning goi–" He cut off abruptly, his eyes widening in surprise when he realized that someone else was in the library. Once he actually got a look at the young man, though, he groaned audibly. "Oh, not _you_ again!"

The young man chuckled. "Hello, Rumple! Lovely to see you again."

"You know him?" Belle asked in astonishment.

"Unfortunately, yes, I do," Rumplestiltskin replied sourly.

Smirking, the young man rose fluidly to his feet, snatching up an ornately carved wooden staff that had been leaning against the table. "Oh, don't be like that, Rumple! Admit it; you enjoy my visits. Besides, you need a little cheer; the place is terribly depressing without it." He rubbed the tabletop with one index finger, then held it up. "Although it _does_ seem much less dustier than usual." Glancing at Belle, he grinned. "I'm guessing you're responsible for that."

Belle smiled despite herself.

"Oh, all right, fine!" Rumplestiltskin sighed. "What do you want?"

"Now, why would you assume that I'm here because I want something?" the young man asked. "Is it so hard to believe that I just enjoy your company?"

"Frankly," Rumplestiltskin said coolly, "yes."

The young man considered that for a moment, and then shrugged. "Fair enough." His voice lost some of its playful tone, becoming more serious. "There's a creature terrorizing villages not far from here. A demon." His eyes narrowed. "I'm hunting it. And I need your help to find it."

Rumplestiltskin raised an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

"This thing's very difficult to find," the young man explained. "It appears and disappears at random; I've tried everything I could think of, but I can't track it down. I was wondering if you might have a tracking spell that can locate it."

Rumplestiltskin turned, pacing around the room. "Maybe I do and maybe I don't, dearie," he said carelessly. "What's it to you?"

A faint growl rumbled in the young man's throat. "I'm not in a mood to play games, Rumple. I need a tracking spell."

Shrugging, Rumplestiltskin turned to face him. "Well, it's your lucky day, then." He held out his left hand, making a twisting motion with it, and, with a burst of dark purple smoke, a necklace – silver, with a large emerald embedded in an ornate silver setting that resembled a claw – materialized in his palm. "This," he added, "has a tracking spell embedded in it, containing enough power to track any being that uses dark magic. You can use this little beauty–" he held up the necklace "–to track down this demon of yours."

The young man's expression didn't waver. "So what's your price?"

Rumplestiltskin considered that for a moment, tapping the index finger of his right hand against his chin thoughtfully and pacing around the room. "Hmm… well, let's just say you'll owe me a favor." He smiled, twirling dramatically to face the young man. "How does that sound?"

The young man shrugged. "Works for me." He held out a hand. "Now, if you wouldn't mind?"

"Oh, of course." Rumplestiltskin casually walked forward, handing the necklace to the young man. "Just put it on and focus on the being you're searching for, and it'll lock onto its power and lead you straight to it."

Nodding, the young man slipped the necklace into a pocket of his jacket. "Thanks for the help, Rumple," he said, his voice back to its usual, cheerful tone. "It was a pleasure doing business with you." Turning away, he started towards the exit from the library.

"Um, excuse me?" Belle called after him.

The young man turned, curiosity in his eyes. "Yes?" he asked.

"I'm sorry, I just…" Belle smiled faintly. "I never got your name."

The young man's lips curved in a smile. "How rude of me," he replied, walking back to her. With a grin, he took her hand, bowed in a courtly manner, and kissed the back of her hand. "Jack Frost."

Belle chuckled, charmed. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Jack Frost."

Jack rose to his feet again and winked at her. "The pleasure was mine, Belle." He appeared to consider something, then raised a hand. "Before I go…" His hand glowed with blue light, and an object materialized in his palm; a flower, possibly a rose, made entirely out of ice. He handed it to her with a smile. "A gift. Keep it away from fires, and it'll never melt."

Smiling, Belle held up the ice flower. "It's beautiful," she said. "Thank you."

"No problem." With a grin, Jack walked back across the room, nodding to Rumplestiltskin as he went. "Always good to see you, Rumple." As he reached the middle of the open area, he stopped, raised his wooden staff and slammed the end of it down on the stone floor. Blue smoke enveloped him, and then dissipated almost immediately, revealing that he had vanished.

"Wha… how did he do that?" Belle asked incredulously.

"The same way I can, dearie," Rumplestiltskin replied. "Magic."

Gazing at the spot where Jack had vanished, Belle smiled again. "He's quite charming," she admitted.

"He's irritating," Rumplestiltskin corrected sardonically. "He enjoys getting under my skin; don't let his playful act fool you, he doesn't like me. But he's a good customer, so I put up with him."

"Well, he seems nice to me."

"They always do, dearie." Rumplestiltskin chuckled. "They always do."

.

_Years earlier, in the Enchanted Forest…_

The young man and Snow had been running for at least half an hour before they finally stopped, deep in the woods.

"Okay, this should be far enough," Snow said, taking deep breaths of air. "They didn't see which way we went, so we'll be safe enough for now."

The young man nodded, also gasping for breath. "You're sure?"

"As sure as I can be," she replied.

He shrugged. "Fair enough."

It didn't take long for them to make a fire; Snow kept it small, so as not to attract attention.

"So," Snow said hesitantly as they sat huddled around the fire. She looked up, focusing on him. "How did you do that?"

The young man looked down at his hands. "I don't know. I just…" He sighed. "I saw him about to stab you, and I just… lost it, I guess. I wanted to make sure he couldn't hurt you, and then…" The image of the soldier's face and neck being coated in ice flashed through his mind again, and he felt sick for a moment. He looked up at Snow. "What _was_ that?"

"Magic," Snow answered. "There's nothing else it could have been." She frowned. "I've never seen anything like that before, though. I've met numerous people who can use magic, but most of those people use spells or wands. With you… it seemed to come from within you, as if it came naturally to you."

The young man frowned. "Could it have something to do with why I don't remember anything?"

"Maybe," Snow replied. "But I don't really know. Magic is something I don't understand very well. Few people do." She smiled. "But you saved my life in there. So I promise you, I will help you figure it out."

The young man looked up at her, surprised. "Do you really mean that?" he asked.

"I do," Snow confirmed. "I suppose I owe you now, so it's the least I can do."

"Well, thank you." The young man smiled. "I will be eternally grateful, Snow White."

Snow's eyes widened. "How did you…" She trailed off, chuckling in realization. "Right; that soldier at the inn." She looked at him questioningly. "You really don't know who I am?"

"Well, I'm assuming you did something to warrant having soldiers chasing you."

Snow sighed. "The Queen wants me dead," she admitted softly. "She was responsible for my father's death, and she's been trying to kill me for years, sending soldiers after me. But I've always managed to escape."

The young man grinned. "Well, anyone who's managed to escape from an evil queen and her entire army is a good traveling companion, as far as I'm concerned."

Snow laughed. "And while we're at it," she replied, "I think I have something to call you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, until we can get your memories back, I need to be able to call you _something_," she explained. "And I think I have the perfect nickname." She smiled. "Frost."

The young man raised an eyebrow. "Frost?"

"It suits you," Snow argued, grinning. "Your hair, your eyes…" She paused. "And your power."

For a long moment, the young man considered. "All right, then," he agreed. "Frost." He smirked. "It's as good a name as any, I suppose."

"Well, then, Frost," Snow said. "We should probably get some sleep; we'll need to keep moving in the morning. Those soldiers won't be in any condition to come after us, so we should be safe for the night, but they'll have reinforcements in this area by tomorrow."

Nodding, the young man – Frost – settled in by the fire, gazing up at the stars.

_Snow and Frost_, he thought. _Seems appropriate._

Frost raised one hand and clenched it into a fist, concentrating. _I wonder if…_ He focused, feeling that icy feeling flow through him again, but this time much less chaotic than before. It felt precise, controlled.

His clenched hand began to glow, a soft blue light leaking through the gaps between his fingers. After a moment, he opened his hand.

Lying in his palm, glowing faintly, was a single, perfectly formed snowflake.

.

_Storybrooke, Maine_

Jackson walked down the sidewalk, exploring Storybrooke's night life. There wasn't too much to do in this town, but he was focused tonight. He glanced down at the object he was carrying, and grinned.

It was Valentine's Day, and he was looking for Ruby. She hadn't been working at Granny's, so he'd inquired about her whereabouts. Granny had informed him that she'd gone out for a "girls' night" with two of her friends, Mary Margaret and Ashley. Jackson didn't recognize either of those names, and he didn't particularly care.

Finally spotting the bar Granny had told him about, Jackson strolled across the street to the entrance. Opening the door, he sauntered inside. He was wearing somewhat fancier attire than normal; blue jeans, a white T-shirt under a light blue dress shirt, and his usual leather jacket over the top.

As he entered the bar, Jackson grinned, spotting Ruby almost immediately. She was seated at a table with two other young women about her age; one had shoulder-length blonde hair, while the other had short dark hair. All three were having drinks. Deciding not to interrupt, Jackson waited for a few moments by the door, concealing the object he was carrying behind his back while slowly making his way towards them. His superhuman hearing could pick up everything they were saying.

"Pace yourself, Ashley," the dark-haired girl said with a chuckle, as the blonde downed another shot glass, immediately reaching for a second one.

"I am!" the blonde – Ashley, Jackson assumed – protested, grinning. "This is the first night out since I've had the baby; I am making up for lost time." She drank the contents of the second shot glass in one swallow.

"Ooh, Ash, check out those guys," Ruby said with a grin, pointing to several well-dressed young men standing at the bar.

Jackson's eyes narrowed. _And that would be my cue._ He started across the room, ducking through the crowd towards the table.

.

"Honey, I'm still with Sean," Ashley replied.

"_You're_ not married, and _he's_ not here," Ruby countered.

"He's working!" Ashley argued

"He's _always_ working," Ruby replied. She shrugged, standing up. "Have fun moping."

Before she could walk over to the bar, a hand tapped her on the shoulder. She turned, and took a step back in surprise. "Jackson?"

"Hey, Ruby," Jackson said with a grin. "Good to see you."

"You too." Ruby smiled. "What's, uh… what's up?"

"Granny told me you'd be here," Jackson replied. "I, ah…" He paused. "I wanted to give you something."

"And what would that be?" Ruby inquired.

Jackson smiled. "This." With an elegant sweep of his arm, he produced a bouquet of flowers – red roses, in fact – from behind his back. He grinned, holding them up. "Happy Valentine's Day."

Ashley and the other girl, who he assumed was Mary Margaret, gasped softly.

Ruby stared at him in shock for a moment; then her surprise turned into a delighted smile. "Thank you!" she exclaimed, hugging him tightly.

Jackson grinned, hugging her back. "No problem." Taking a step back, he handed her the flowers.

Ruby smelled the roses, inhaling deeply, and sighed. "Wow," she murmured. "Where did you get these?"

"I bought them at the florist's van yesterday morning," Jackson explained. "I figured you'd like them."

"I love them!" Ruby grinned, delighted, and hugged him again, kissing him on the cheek. Ashley and Mary Margaret laughed, and she pulled away, blushing.

"So, what're you doing tonight?" Jackson asked with a chuckle.

"Well, we were just having some drinks," Ruby replied, indicating herself, Mary Margaret and Ashley. She grinned, somewhat shyly. "Would you, ah… would you like to join us?"

Jackson smiled. "Absolutely."

.

After an hour or so, Jackson had settled in nicely. Ruby had acquired several more drinks from the bar, and he was currently sipping from a glass of champagne (he'd acquired a taste for it from his family's occasional dinner parties back in Beacon Hills).

"Girls' night's not really working out for you, huh?" Ruby asked Ashley, resting a supportive hand on her shoulder.

"I thought it would make me feel better," Ashley admitted. "But, the truth is, I need a 'be with my guy' night." She sighed. "But, you know; he's never around, and I'm at home with the baby all day." She looked up again, glancing between Ruby, Mary Margaret, and Jackson. "I mean, what's the point of being together if we're not together?"

"I get it," Jackson said understandingly. His relationship with Lydia had contained more than its fair share of that sort of thing, and it had only ever caused pain for both of them.

"So do I," Mary Margaret added sadly. "Loving someone you can't be with… it's a terrible, terrible burden." She looked down at the table silently, her face downcast, and stirred her drink with her straw.

"You know," Ashley said, "this was a bad idea. I should… I should go home." She stood up, just as a young man with light brown hair walked up to the table, holding a colorful bouquet of flowers.

"Ashley?" he asked, smiling.

Ashley whirled, her eyes wide in shock. "Sean?" she asked.

"Hey."

Jackson sighed, rolling his eyes. _Just get on with it already!_ he thought.

"I thought you were working tonight," Ashley said curiously.

"I am," Sean explained. "It's my break. And I…" He paused. "I had to see you. And ask you something." He handed her the flowers, and then reached into his pocket, drawing out a small box.

Jackson's eyes widened. _Wait… is he really about to…_

Sean dropped to one knee and held up the box. He opened it, revealing a ring, and smiled. "Will you marry me?"

For a long moment, Ashley didn't respond; she just stared at him, rendered speechless.

Sean's smile became somewhat nervous. "I, ah… I only have a twenty-minute break," he said. "So, um, anytime now."

Ashley finally snapped out of it; she began nodding frantically, smiling as tears welled up in her eyes, and finally gasped, "Yes!"

Cheers and applause filled the bar as Sean placed the ring on Ashley's finger; all of the patrons had taken notice by now. Ruby and Mary Margaret were cheering the loudest; Jackson joined them.

"My truck's outside," Sean said with a smile, "if you want to take a ride before I head back to work. It's not much of a date…"

"It's the best date," Ashley interrupted, smiling.

Sean grinned, offering her his arm. "Then your carriage awaits."

As the happy couple left the bar, Jackson noticed that Mary Margaret looked oddly downcast. She stood up, murmuring a quick goodbye, and hurried out of the room.

Jackson looked after her for a moment. "What was that about?" he muttered.

Ruby frowned. "No idea." After a second, her smile returned, and she turned back to face him. "Anyway, since they're gone… would you like another drink? Toast to Ashley's engagement?"

Jackson mirrored her grin with his own. "I'd love to."

.

**AN: And here we are again. Sorry about the delay between updates; hopefully this chapter should make up for it!**

**To everyone who's been guessing the young man's identity; well, wait no longer! It has been confirmed; the young man in the Enchanted Forest is Jack Frost! Now, the question is; if Jackson grew up in Beacon Hills, not in Storybrooke, how does he look exactly like Jack Frost? Guess away! ;)**

**Just to clarify about the timeline for this chapter, since someone will probably be wondering; the scene in the Dark Castle takes place during the Enchanted Forest part of "Skin Deep", the scene in the forest takes place immediately after the Enchanted Forest scene last chapter, and the scene in Storybrooke also takes place during "Skin Deep".**

**Shoutouts to Tala White 14, BlazeVein, laurenrulez1, RHatch89, tablekorner, The Lady Geek, and Guest for reviewing! I really appreciate it; you guys are awesome!**

**Next chapter, the young man – now known as Frost – and Snow continue their journey, and Jackson encounters a certain mayor for the first time… stay tuned!**

**See you all next time!**

**Review Q&A:**

**Q: ****Awesome! I'm soooo excited for the next chapter. Great job!**

**A: Thanks! I hope you liked this one; please let me know what you thought of it!**

**Q: ****Jack Frost? Really good story.**

**A: An excellent guess! Thanks, I'm glad you're enjoying the story!**

**Q: Continue soon please**

**A: Well, here you go!**

**Q: hope you update this :)**

**A: I hope you like the new chapter!**

**Q: ****I have a feeling that this is going to be good. It just sounds so interesting, and very different! Looking forward to reading this one!**

**A: Thanks, I appreciate the compliment!**

**Q: Can not wait to see what the connections are between the young man, and Jackson, and why Gold recognized him. As well as why the young man was able to freeze someones skin like that. Also looking forward to more Jackson/Red bits! Keep up the amazing story, loving it so far. Looking forward to the next update.**

**A: Well, now you know! And I hope the amount of Jackson/Ruby moments in this chapter were satisfactory! :)**

**Q: Jackson is Jack Frost, isn't he?**

**A: As a matter of fact, he is!**

**Q: Jackson is Jack Frost!**

**A: Yep!**


	6. Best Served Cold

**Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Once Upon a Time.**

.

**Chapter 6: Best Served Cold**

_"Revenge is a dish best served cold."_ = Old saying from the Mafiosi in Sicily.

.

_In the Enchanted Forest…_

Prince James galloped through the forest on his horse, his sides burning with exertion. He gasped for air, breathing hard as the horse galloped along the road. The cries of his pursuers echoed through the forest.

A crossbow bolt shot past his head. They were getting closer.

James glanced back, seeing the soldiers close behind him. There were at least half a dozen of them, all heavily armed. If he couldn't get away, they were going to catch him.

Abruptly, a voice yelled, "Duck!" Bizarrely, the voice had come from in front of him.

James didn't question it; he ducked low in the saddle, just as a bolt of blue light shot over him, hitting one of the soldiers and blasting him backwards off his horse. Another bolt followed, felling a second soldier.

James's eyes widened in amazement, but he didn't pause to question the incident; instead, he spurred his horse on, vaulting over a fallen tree that was blocking the road. Rather than keep running, as the soldiers would have expected, he circled his horse around on a narrow trail, concealing himself within a cluster of trees. Hopping off the horse's back, he looked through a gap between two bushes, watching as the soldiers came to a halt at the fallen tree and circled back, scattering.

He turned around… just in time to see two men in maroon uniforms walking towards him. Before he could react, they whipped a sack over his head, and everything went dark.

.

_Storybrooke, Maine_

Jackson woke up early. He grinned, stretching luxuriantly, as he thought back on the previous night. He and Ruby had stayed up talking late into the evening at the diner; he had enjoyed learning more about her. Interestingly, despite her confident attitude, Ruby was actually very sheltered; in fact, she had never left Storybrooke. Jackson had regaled her with stories of his childhood in Beacon Hills – though, of course, he had left out the supernatural elements – and his recent journey to London.

Dressing quickly, Jackson hurried to the diner, taking a seat at the bar. He nodded to Granny, flashing a smile as Ruby came out of the kitchen. She returned his smile and strolled up to him, carrying her usual clipboard.

"What can I get you?" she asked with a flirtatious smirk.

"Ham and cheese omelet, with hash browns and an apple juice," Jackson replied, mirroring her smirk with his own.

"Coming right up." Ruby grinned, turning and sauntering back into the kitchen as she wrote down his order.

Jackson sighed, leaning forward and resting his hands on the bar. He was growing quite accustomed to Storybrooke by now; he had spent several nights running through the woods outside the town as a werewolf, getting a feel for the area. To be perfectly honest, he was no longer sure that he wanted to leave; this town seemed to be an excellent place to stay for a while.

"Hi."

Distracted by the high-pitched voice, Jackson turned, glancing down to see the same kid who had been talking to him a few days earlier.

"Oh, hey." He nodded. "Henry, right?"

"Yeah." The kid – Henry – was looking at Jackson oddly, almost as if he was examining him. "And you're Jackson, right?"

Jackson grinned, amused. "Yeah, that's me."

"So… why are you here?" Henry inquired. "In Storybrooke, I mean."

That question threw Jackson off guard; he raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Just passing through, I guess. I'd heard I had some relatives up in this part of the country, so I was driving through the area, and I stumbled across this place."

Henry frowned. "But… that doesn't make sense. No one comes to Storybrooke."

"Well, I did." Jackson was actually intrigued by that last statement, despite himself. "What do you mean, no one comes here?"

Shrugging, Henry clambered up onto the stool next to Jackson. "They don't," he said simply. "The only people who've ever come here from anywhere else are Emma, me, that other guy who's staying at the motel, and you. No one else has ever come here. _Ever._"

Now, _this_ was interesting. "Why do you think that is?" Jackson asked, leaning on the bar.

Henry appeared to be considering whether he should tell him something, but in the end he nodded, leaning closer to Jackson and lowering his voice. "I know why," he said softly. "It's because of the curse."

Jackson almost burst out laughing, but he managed to contain it. "'The curse'?" he repeated. "What curse?"

"Well," Henry explained, "you probably won't believe me – most people don't – but there's a curse on this town. The people who live here don't belong here." His eyes were alight with enthusiasm. "And, by 'here', I don't mean Storybrooke. I mean this world."

Jackson raised an eyebrow. "This _world?_ Then… where are they from?"

"Another world," Henry replied seriously. "A world where every fairy-tale character is real. Snow White, Prince Charming, Little Red Riding Hood, Cinderella… they're all real. And they live here now, in Storybrooke. The curse brought them all here, to this world, and made them forget who they are."

Jackson had been listening to this story with a combination of skepticism and interest. Normally, he would've dismissed this story immediately, but something about the way Henry described it made him listen more closely. Also, the fact that Jackson was a werewolf had made him considerably more open-minded than most people. But, all the same, what this kid was telling him sounded ridiculous. Fairy-tale characters? Curses? _Magic?_ Seriously?

"All right," Jackson said after a moment of consideration. "Suppose I believe you." He glanced around the room. "That would mean everyone in here is a fairy-tale character, right?"

"Yep," Henry answered promptly, nodding.

"Okay, then. Which ones are they?"

"Hmm…" Henry looked around, his brow furrowing. "Well, I don't actually know for most people; I haven't figured out who they all are yet. I _do_ know that Archie – that guy in the corner over there – is Jiminy Cricket." He pointed to where a guy wearing a tweed jacket and glasses was seated at a corner table, then glanced over and pointed to Ruby as she exited the kitchen. "Ruby's Little Red Riding Hood, and Granny is her grandmother, the Widow Lucas."

"She's Little Red Riding Hood, huh?" Jackson said, smirking. _I suppose that makes me the Big Bad Wolf,_ he thought, amused by the irony of that idea.

"Hey there, Henry," Ruby said with a smile as she approached them, setting down Jackson's breakfast on the counter. "Have you been telling Jackson here stories?"

"He's telling me about the curse," Jackson answered with a grin.

"Ah, got it," Ruby replied, chuckling. "So you told him I'm Little Red Riding Hood, right, Henry?"

"Yep!" Henry said cheerfully.

"Just out of curiosity," Jackson put in, turning back to face Henry, "do you think _I'm_ a character from one of those fairy tales?"

Henry considered that for a moment, gazing contemplatively at Jackson in thought, and then shook his head. "No; if you were, you would have already been living in Storybrooke." His eyes narrowed. "Although, you _do_ look familiar, now that I'm thinking about it… although, unfortunately, I lost my book, so I can't check to see…"

"Henry?" a woman's voice called from the doorway.

Jackson glanced up, just as a woman wearing a dark business suit walked into the diner. She was shorter than he was, with tan skin, shoulder-length black hair and brown eyes. An aura of authority, mixed with menace, seemed to pervade the air around her like a chill.

"Hi, Mom," Henry said with a smile as he turned, waving to her in greeting.

Jackson nodded slowly. So _this_ was Henry's mother, the "Madame Mayor" that Ruby had told him about.

"Where did you run off to?" she said with a smile, walking up to them.

"I just wanted to say hi to Ruby before school," Henry explained.

Jackson and Ruby exchanged grins.

"And who is this?" Henry's mother – Regina, Jackson remembered – asked, noticing someone she didn't recognize sitting behind Henry. As Henry hopped down from his stool, giving her a clear view of Jackson, her eyes widened in shock for a split second, before returning to her previous calm appearance.

Deciding to speak up, Jackson stood to greet her. "I'm Jackson," he said with a smile, extending his hand politely. "Jackson Whittemore."

"Well, it's… nice to meet you, Jackson," Regina said, smiling thinly as she shook his hand, releasing it almost immediately. Although no one else noticed, Jackson heard her heart rate speed up. She was lying; she was definitely _not_ pleased to meet him.

"You must be Regina," he said with an easy smile. "I've heard quite a lot about you." He gave her a quick once-over, her posture confirming what he'd already suspected; this woman was not interested in being friendly.

Regina's eyes narrowed. "How… nice to hear that." She paused for a moment, scrutinizing him. "I'm sorry, Mr.… Whittemore, was it? But I don't recall seeing you around Storybrooke before."

"That would be because I'm not from around here," Jackson responded casually. "I've only been living here for a couple of weeks; I got here right before that big storm hit."

"I see." Regina appeared to consider that for a moment, and then turned to Henry. "Henry, why don't you go wait for the bus, all right?"

Henry nodded. "Sure, Mom." He glanced over his shoulder to Jackson. "It was nice talking to you, Jackson." Smiling, he turned and exited the diner.

As soon as he was gone, Regina's polite smile vanished. Her eyes locked on Jackson, and she sat on the stool Henry had vacated. "So, Mr. Whittemore," she added coolly, "would you mind telling me why exactly you were talking to my son?"

Most people would have been intimidated by an attitude like that. Jackson, however, wasn't most people. Something about knowing that he could snap Regina's neck with his bare hands if he wanted to made her a lot less intimidating. Therefore, instead of hastily saying something, he casually replied, "Well, if you must know, he came up to me, sat down on that stool, and started talking. He wanted to know how I got here, and then he started telling me all these stories about fairy-tale creatures and that sort of thing." His lips curved in an amused smile. "I was actually intrigued; that kid definitely knows how to tell a story."

Regina considered that for a moment, then nodded fractionally. "I see. In that case, I should probably be going. I would like to know, though; why _are_ you in Storybrooke?"

Jackson shrugged. "Just passing through."

After a second of staring at him, Regina nodded. "Very well." She stood to leave, then paused, looking back at him. "If I may give you a word of advice, Mr. Whittemore?" She glared coldly at him. "You should stay away from my son." Turning on her heel, she strode briskly out of the diner.

Jackson whistled, turning back to face Ruby. "You weren't kidding," he commented. "She _is_ a bitch."

.

_In the Enchanted Forest…_

James made his way slowly through the trees, carrying a canteen filled with water. He had just completed a mission on behalf of Princess Abigail; retrieving enchanted water from the legendary Lake Nostos, in order to revive her true love, Frederick. After killing the deadly Siren that inhabited the lake, he had taken some of the water before returning to Abigail.

"Water from Lake Nostos," he said casually, handing her the canteen. "As requested."

Abigail laughed, delighted. "Remarkable!" she exclaimed. "But… how did you manage to slay the beast?"

"Well, the fate of your true love was at stake," James explained, smiling. "And it was a battle I couldn't afford to lose."

Smiling, Abigail turned to the golden statue of Frederick, still clad in full battle armor. Reaching up, she opened the canteen and gingerly poured the water onto the top of his head, watching as it ran down over the statue.

And then it happened. The gold began to change, melting back into normal silver metal. Within a few seconds, the golden statue had been transformed into an armored knight. He remained motionless for a long moment, and then staggered, losing his balance and nearly falling. Abigail hurried forward and caught the man, supporting him. She unfastened his helmet and pulled it off, revealing a young man with tousled dark hair.

"Abigail," he gasped. "What happened to me?"

"You were trapped," Abigail replied, "but now you're free." She smiled, indicating James. "This is James. He's the one who freed you."

Frederick turned to James and shook his hand. "I am forever indebted to you."

"Well, pay me back by walking down the aisle with someone you truly belong with," James said with a smile, glancing from Frederick to Abigail. "And, perhaps, giving me a horse and supplies for a journey as well?"

Frederick nodded without hesitation. "Done."

"Thank you," Abigail added, tears in her eyes. "So much." She looked at Frederick, then back to James. "Where will you go?"

James paused for a moment, and smiled faintly. "To find Snow White."

"You're going after her," Abigail guessed.

James nodded. "True love isn't easy, but it must be fought for. Because, once you find it, it can never be replaced."

After a moment, Abigail frowned, puzzled. "How will you know where to find her?"

"Well, a bird helped me track her down once," James said. "Hopefully, it can again."

Abigail chuckled. "I think we can do a little better than a bird. After what you've done for me, the least I can do is give you a guide."

James raised an eyebrow in surprise. "A guide?"

"Indeed," a voice called out. James turned, to see a young man walking up to them. He wore a brown jacket, a light blue shirt, loose-fitting brown pants and black boots, and he carried an ornate wooden staff. His bright blue eyes, pale skin and spiked-up, pure-white hair combined to lend him an attractive appearance.

"Jack," Abigail said with a smile. "James, this is Jack Frost. He's a friend of mine; I asked him to help me find you and get you to safety, and he performed admirably in that regard."

"Oh, nothing to it," the young man replied, waving his hand carelessly. "I shot a couple of soldiers off their horses; anyone could do that."

James's eyes widened as he remembered the strange bolts of blue light that had knocked two of the soldiers off of their horses. "That was _you?_"

"Why, yes," the young man answered. He shook James's hand, a friendly smile on his face. "Pleasure to meet you, Prince James."

James nodded. "You as well… Jack Frost." He turned back to Abigail, momentarily confused. "He is my guide?"

"Yes," Abigail responded. "Jack knows these forests better than anyone else. If anyone is going to be able to lead you to Snow White while evading King George, it's him."

"Not to mention," Jack cut in with a smirk, "that I happen to be a personal friend of Snow White. And, as a matter of fact, I happen to know exactly where she's taken up residence, meaning that I can lead you straight to her front door."

Impressed, James smiled. "Then thank you, Jack Frost." He turned back to Abigail and Frederick. "My best wishes to you both."

"I wish you the same," Abigail replied. "And, James, please make haste. When King George discovers that the union of the kingdoms has been ruined, he will come after you." A shadow crossed her face. "Some people will stop at nothing to destroy the happiness of others."

James nodded grimly, his face set. One of Abigail's guards brought his horse forward, and the prince took the reins, climbing swiftly into the saddle. Jack swung easily onto the horse's back behind him.

"Right, then, Prince James," Jack said with a grin. "Let's get you back to your true love!"

A swift kick from James set the horse in motion, racing down the path and into the forest. Jack laughed as they rode off into the night.

.

After riding for almost a day, James and Jack finally reached the place where Jack had informed James that Snow was living. A small wooden cabin stood on one side of a field, partially concealed by trees.

As the pair rode up and came to a stop, James hopped off of the horse and walked towards the cabin. "Snow?" he called. "Snow White! Snow! Are you there?"

"She should be here," Jack murmured, walking up behind him. "She was here the last time I visited, and that was only a week ago."

That was when a voice called, "She's gone."

James and Jack turned, taken off guard, as a young woman with long dark hair walked out of the trees. She wore a bright red cloak and hood, and carried a wicker basket in one hand.

Jack's eyes widened in surprise and relief when he saw her. "Red!" he exclaimed, dashing forward.

The young woman smiled, her eyes lighting up in joy, and ran forward to meet him, dropping her basket as Jack tossed aside his staff. They embraced and kissed passionately; Jack lifted her feet off the ground and spun her around in a circle, before setting her down again.

"I missed you, Jack," the young woman said with a smile.

"And I you," Jack replied, grinning.

James had been watching this, bemused. "You know each other?" he asked.

"We certainly do," Jack answered, throwing an arm around the girl's shoulders and extending his other hand towards his fallen staff. His palm glowed blue for a moment, and the staff flew off the ground and landed back in his hand. "Red and I have known each other for a very long time."

"What did you say about Snow?" James asked Red, his serious demeanor returning.

Red sighed. "She never came back after she went to find you."

James's eyes narrowed. "Then I'll find her," he decided. "I will always find her. And I will convince her that we belong together." His voice rang with conviction. "I will always fight for her, no matter what comes between us."

Red's lips curled in a smile. "It won't be much of a fight."

"I'll say," Jack added, chuckling.

James frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Snow wants to be with you more than anything," Red said earnestly.

James's head snapped around, glaring at her. "Don't mock me," he snapped. "Snow told me that we can't be together because she doesn't love me."

"She left here to break up your wedding, because she's _in_ love with you," Red countered.

"She's not wrong," Jack seconded. "You're all Snow ever wants to hear news of; well, you and the Queen, of course, but mostly you."

Abruptly, Red frowned, suspicion entering her eyes. "Unless something changed her mind along the way…"

James's eyes suddenly widened in realization, then in fury. "Not some_thing_," he growled. "Some_one_."

A moment later, the sounds of horses neighing and men shouting echoed through the treed, just before a band of soldiers on horseback burst into the open on the other side of the field.

"Jack, James, who are they?" Red asked nervously.

"That would be the 'someone' he was talking about," Jack replied coolly.

"King George," James finished, glaring at the oncoming horses.

"Bring me his head!" King George ordered from his place on one of the horses, waving his hand to urge his soldiers forward.

"Come on!" James called urgently, beckoning to Jack and Red as he turned and ran towards his horse. The couple ran after him, Jack tugging on Red's hand to speed her up.

Vaulting onto the back of his horse, James looked back, reached down and extended his hand to Red. She nodded in thanks, grasping his hand, and he lifted her into the saddle behind him.

"Jack, let's go!" James ordered.

"Hang on," Jack replied, raising his staff and pointing it at the charging soldiers. "Let me see if I can slow them up a bit." His eyes gleamed mischievously, and he fired a bolt of blue light from the tip of his staff. The bolt struck one of the soldiers squarely in the chest, blasting him backwards off the back of his horse. A second bolt followed, striking down another.

"Too many for that," Jack decided abruptly. He paused, then snapped his fingers and smirked in amusement. "Now there's an idea… I haven't used this one in a while." He fired another bolt from his staff, then another, and then another. These three, however, were aimed at the ground a few yards in front of them.

"What was–" James began, but he was halted by a rumbling sound, as three large mounds of ice and snow began to rise from the ground in the places where the three bolts of light had struck the ground.

Then the mounds began to shift and change, forming into three massive shapes. Protrusions of snow formed into massive limbs, two arms and two legs. Sharp, blade-like pieces of ice sprouted from the figures' hands, knees and backs, with the ones on the hands forming into finger-like talons. More pieces of ice grew from the "heads" of the figures, forming dagger-like teeth set into huge mouths. Finally, glowing blue eyes, made entirely from ice, formed on the figures' heads.

Within seconds, the three mounds of snow had been transformed into three massive, golem-like creatures, made entirely of snow and ice. The creatures roared, the sound echoing across the field.

Jack grinned, pointing at the charging soldiers, who were, understandably, stunned by the newly formed giants. "_Stop them!_" he yelled.

The golems glanced at him, and then turned, roaring in rage, and charged directly towards the soldiers. Within seconds, they were upon the man, smashing them aside with massive, snowy fists, kicking over horses, and letting out deafening bellows. The soldiers were fighting back, but, for the moment, they were too disorganized to mount any kind of counterattack, and their weapons were mostly ineffective against the golems.

"Okay, _now_ we can go," Jack said, jumping effortlessly onto the saddle and landing lightly behind Red.

James didn't bother questioning what had just happened; he spurred the horse into motion, and they galloped away, leaving the raging battle behind them.

"What the hell was that?" James exclaimed in shock as they raced through the trees.

"A trick I learned from an old friend," Jack shouted back. "I'm not as good at it as she was; those things will only last a few hours before the magic I used to create them runs out and they'll evaporate. But they'll buy us the time we need to get away from here, and that's what's important." He frowned. "There'll be more soldiers, though; next time we may not be so fortunate."

"I don't care," James replied, urging the horse to go faster. "I don't care how many enemies I must face; I won't stop until I find Snow."

"Brave heart, Charming," Jack said, chuckling. "I must say, I'm glad to be traveling alongside someone like you. We'll need that bravery of yours before this is over."

The horse galloped on, carrying its three passengers into the forest and out of sight.

.

**AN: And here we are again. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!**

**Sorry, I said last chapter that I was going to go back to Frost and Snow in this chapter, but I liked this idea better, so I used it instead. Don't worry, we'll get back to the other storyline next chapter.**

**Timeline-wise, all of the scenes in this episode take place during "What Happened to Frederick".**

**Shoutouts to RHatch89, tablekorner, BlazeVein, Tala White 14, BestUsernameEver54321, blodrose, and Guest for reviewing! You guys are awesome!**

**Next chapter, Frost and Snow continue their journey and Frost begins testing his newfound powers, while Jackson comes up with a plan to surprise Ruby at the annual Miners' Festival… stay tuned!**

**See you all next time!**

**Review Q&A:**

**Q: Awesome update :)**

**A: Thanks!**

**Q: I feel as if I should have realized that he was Jack Frost, I mean from the stick, to coming out of the lack, to freezing, pale white hair! It was so obvious! Well it's definitely intrigued me even more, can't wait to see where you take this development. Loved the Jackson/Ruby bits this chapter, wondering what's going to go on between these two later, especially when it's reveal that she's a werewolf, and then he's revealed as well. Really looking forward to Jackson, and Regina next chapter, that can go many different ways, and definitely looking forward to reading that scene! Keep up the amazing story, looking forward to the next update!**

**A: Yeah, I'm basing this version of Jack Frost on the version portrayed in "Rise of the Guardians", so his first appearance in this story is very similar to that movie. I'm planning on altering his character, obviously, and he'll have a very different story than in the movie, but his appearance and powers will be based on the movie version.**

**Q: Oh, right. He grow up in Beacon Hills … then he is the lost baby of Jack Frost? XD (or implanted memories) Nop, you have to put a good explanation for that ;P**

**A: I most certainly will provide a good explanation. It won't be for a while, though.**

**Q: So cool! I love this story. It's really exciting. I wonder what the demon is that Jack was hunting… I love the idea of Ruby and Jackson together. Please update soon!**

**A: Well, as we find out in this chapter, it isn't just Ruby and Jackson who are on their way to getting together, but we've found out that Jack and Red had a bit of a thing going on. interesting, isn't it? As for the demon that Jack was hunting; yes, it will definitely be important to the story later on, but I can't tell you what it is yet. Spoilers! :)**

**Q: Please update!**

**A: Well, here you go!**

**Q: this is an amazing sort and it's very well written! Can't wait till the next chapter**

**A: Thanks, I appreciate the compliment! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

**Q: What's next?**

**A: This!**


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